Damaged But Not Broken (New Adult Rockers) (12 page)

“Of course, Paige,” I murmur, “I
know that.”

“I just want to be clear. And yes,
I do want to be your friend, and I will just have to deal with my feelings, but
I don’t really know how we can go about doing that when Savannah is being a –”
she trails off, but I know what she wants to say.

Bitch.

“Right now, I don’t care. We have a
history, and I can be friends with whoever I damn well please. I’m not going to
have her showing up in your driveway terrorizing you.”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly
terrorizing-’’

“You know what I mean. We are
friends, end of story.”

“And you’re not bothered by my
feelings for you? You don’t think this is going to get in the way of our
friendship?” Her blue eyes are wide and open, trusting whatever my answer may
be. And in that moment, I
want
to be more than friends. I want to push
Paige up against the wall and kiss her like she’s never been kissed. I want to
tell Savannah to fuck off and that we’re through.

Instead, I nod. “We’ll deal with
it,” I manage to say, because she isn’t the only one struggling with feelings
here. We’re foolish and stupid, but we somehow can’t leave one another alone.

The air between us is charged and
the longer we go without speaking, the more intense the feeling becomes.

“I really should go,” she says
softly.

I don’t want to see her leave, but
I don’t really know what to do otherwise. Kenny and the guys are just out of
sight and if we’re gone for too long it will seem strange.

“How about a friendly lunch date next
week?” I ask.

Paige grins ear to ear – that smile
that I’ve seen so many times and I’ve found myself thinking of more often than
I like.

“Sure, that would be great. How
does Tuesday sound? We can hang out at my dad’s again.”

“Sounds fun.”

There's an awkward silence between
us, we’re both not sure what else to say, and Paige pushes open the door to leave.

“Tell my daddy I’m waiting in the
car, okay?”

I nod and watch her walk out of the
club. I make my way back to the table and nothing seems amiss.

“Paige is real beat,” I say to Kenny,
“she told me she’s going to wait in the car.”

“No problem,” he says, standing up
and plunking two twenties down – much more than the cost of our beers. “You
boys celebrate some more without me, you hear? We’ll get to work on Monday.”

We thank him again as he makes his
way out of the bar.

Ben raises his eyebrows and looks at
me. “Isn’t Kenny’s daughter the one you dated back in the day?”

“That’s the one,” Ryan answers for
me, “but don’t get any ideas because I already started laying the groundwork
last week.”

“Yeah, well we’ll just see about
that,” Ben says, his eyes gleaming at the challenge, “Too bad Blake here can’t
participate. I bet he’s wishing he could get back in on that action.”

Ryan guffaws. “Please. Blake here
is probably getting laid all the time by Savannah. I doubt he has two minutes
to even think about Paige. Right?”

I laugh weakly and make some lame
comment about Savannah being a sex fiend. I know Ben and Ryan, and who knows
how many other guys, envy me. Because even though Savannah is a handful, she’s
hot as fuck and straight oozes sex appeal.

We hang out for another couple
hours, but I don’t remember too much of our conversation. I don’t drink any
more beer, and by the time I get home, Savannah is curled up on the couch in
her soft pink pajamas, sound asleep.

Some infomercial is playing, and I
flip the TV off. I stop for a minute and stare down at her. She looks so sweet
and harmless in her sleep, and I’ve never really understood the need for her to
wear all the makeup she wears. She looks softer and prettier without it.

Sighing, I pick her up and carry
her back to the bedroom. She mumbles against my chest, and I lay her down on
her side of the bed. I know I should crawl into bed next to her, but I just
can’t bring myself to do it. I keep thinking of how she showed up unannounced
at Kenny’s house and blasted Paige.

I imagine an unknown car in Paige’s
driveway scared the shit out of her. She’s doing a pretty good job so far of
hiding her demons, but from careful observation I can tell that Paige is jumpy
now by nature; she always seems to be on alert.

Silently, I pull off my shoes,
jeans and shirt. Wearing only my boxers, I make my way into the living room and
sprawl across the couch. I fall asleep thinking about our upcoming tour and
about Paige. I have a dream that the band is on tour and Paige comes out to
visit us in one of the cities...

Paige finds her way to my hotel
room and knocks on the door. I open the door, surprised to see her there, and
she walks into the room without saying a word.

Wordlessly, I watch as Paige
sets her guitar down, unhooks her black sweater and tosses it in a chair.
Slowly, she reaches behind her and I realize she’s pulling down the zipper of
her dress. She pulls down one strap at a time, until the dress slides to her
hips, revealing her pink bra. She wiggles out of the dress and she’s standing
before me in a matching bra and panties set, her body even more beautiful than
I remember.

My jaw about hits the floor and
she gives me a sexy smile as she unhooks her bra and lets her big beautiful tits
fall free.

They bounce slightly against her
chest as they fall out of her lacy bra. I gulp hungrily.

Leaving only her panties on she
walks towards me and gently pushes me back on the bed. I don’t resist as she
unzips my pants and pulls them down my legs. She follows with my boxers, and
neither one of us is surprised to see that I’m thick and hard for her.

Still not speaking, Paige grasps
me in her hands and I groan. Her grip is tight and firm. She lowers her lips to
me and takes me into her mouth, pushing me deep into the back of her throat. I
groan again and let the pleasure wash over me. It feels so fucking good, and I
feel myself harden even more inside her warm mouth.

She works me over, moving up and
down my shaft until I’m delirious with pleasure.

I groan again, her name just on
my lips...

And then my eyes fly open.

I’m disoriented, but the pleasure
is real.

Daylight fills the room, and I’m
still lying on the couch, but Savannah is crouched between my legs, sucking me
off like her life depends on it.

“What the hell?” I say angrily,
trying to push her off me.

“Hiya sugar,” she purrs, before
taking me deep into her mouth again. “Thought you might like a little morning wakeup
call before I left for work.”

I look more closely and see that
Savannah is primped and ready for work, and she’s wearing a sheer black bra, no
panties and a garter belt and stockings.

“I’m not in the mood, Savannah,” I
growl, trying to push her off me.

“Well I am,” she pouts. And before
I can move again, she pulls her mouth off me, and scoots higher before sinking
down on me.

“Argh!” I groan. Savannah is wet
and ready, clearly having planned this morning riding session.

“Don’t fight it baby,” she murmurs,
bucking her hips against me, knowing how to get us both off. “This is what we
both need.”

When she’s through with me and
we’ve both climaxed, she climbs off and sashays away. She turns back around
just before she reaches the bedroom.

“Now you’ll be thinking about me
all day,’’ she smirks.

Hardly.

TEN

Paige

Staying Focused

Just as I had hoped, I don’t have
much time to think about Blake. Now that I have a schedule of my gigs from
Becky, I spend a lot more time preparing and writing new music. Of course, I
haven’t forgotten about my lunch date with Blake on Tuesday, but at least it’s
not consuming my mind.

I play another gig on Saturday
night and another on Monday night. Both are incredibly successful, and I’ve had
a handful of people ask if I have an album out or any singles.

My daddy's come along to all the
gigs so far, and now I’m starting to feel silly that I have a chaperone. I know
he likes to see me play, but I understand he has a business to attend to, and
better things to do with his time. I need to suck it up and start going by
myself.

I haven’t spoken to my mom in a
bit, which has been partly intentional, but when I wake up Tuesday morning, I
decide it’s a good time to call.

“Hey Momma,” I say when she answers
the phone.

“Paige, honey! How are you? I’ve
hardly heard from you. Is everything okay?” I cringe when I hear the worry in
her voice.

I should have done a better job
keeping in touch over the past month or so.

“I’m doing well. I’m sorry I’ve
been so lousy with keeping in touch. I’ve been really busy and Daddy has been
great about helping me get settled in.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She pauses
for a second. “How is everything else?” she asks, and I know she means how am I
handling being back in Nashville.

“It’s alright,” I say slowly, “You
know, once I finally started going out a bit, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Are you spending time with any of
your old friends?” I hear the hope in her voice. She always hated how I had no
friends in Bristol.

“Momma, no one reaches out to me.
The only person I’ve seen is Blake.”

“Blake Evans? Goodness it's been a
while. How is he?”

I take a deep breath. I want to be
careful what I tell my mom here. “He’s doing real well. He is actually a
musician, too. Turns out Daddy manages his band. We’ve hung out a few times,
but it’s a little complicated.”

“Complicated how?” My momma’s voice
as that edge which means she knows I’m not telling her everything.

“Well, he’s engaged.”

“Hmm. That sounds nice. Have you
met his fiancé?”

And then I find myself spilling the
whole story to Momma, telling her about how there is a weird attraction between
us still, but I mostly think it’s me, and how his fiancé is a nasty woman who
showed up at the house to threaten me and accuse me of trying to steal her man.

“Oh, Paige,” my mom says when I’m
through. “You need to be careful. Even if it’s platonic, you and Blake have a
history. You can’t go messing with his life that way.”

“I’m not messing, Momma! We both
want to be friends!”

“But you just told me you still
have feelings for him.”

“I can’t help it!”

“Paige, I would love nothing more
than for you to meet a wonderful man who makes you feel safe and loved. And if
Blake were single, maybe he would be that man. But he is
taken
, honey.
And obviously his fiancé is feeling threatened, bitch or no bitch. That is only
going to bring you heartache and drama and those are two things you don’t want
as you adjust to this new life of yours.”

She’s right of course, but I don’t
want to hear it.

I change the subject to my new
calendar of gigs, and my mom slowly relents and promises to come down one
weekend to hear me sing. We don’t bring up Blake again, but I know she wants to
talk more. Maybe calling her wasn’t the best idea.

By the time I hang up, I need to
rush to get ready for Blake’s visit. I take a quick shower and put on a cute
dress, and then hurry off to the main kitchen. I stocked the fridge the day before
and I start laying everything out on the island in the kitchen.

This time Blake doesn’t even knock
on the door, but instead pushes it open.

“Hello?” He says, poking his head
through the door.

“Hey! Come on in.”

He comes into the kitchen; his hair
perfectly messed up, wearing jeans and an old t-shirt.

“I brought some snacks,” he says,
holding out two bags of potato chips.

“Perfect. I was just laying out
fixins’ for sandwiches. Help yourself.”

Blake picks up a plate and starts
building a sandwich and I do the same.

“Want to eat out on the patio
again?” I ask.

“Sure. It was nice out there.”

We take our lunches and head out
back.

We steer the conversation clear of
Savannah and instead talk about our music. Blake and the band are busy getting
ready for their tour, and I can tell he’s really stoked. The afternoon
stretches on and during an unusual lull in our conversation, Blake gazes
longingly at the pool.

“The water looks amazing.”

“It
is
amazing. I’ve become
obsessed with this pool. Sometimes I feel like I spend more time in the pool
than I do in the house.”

Blake gives me a strange look.

“What?” I ask, feeling
self-conscious.

“Just picturing you in a bathing
suit.”

I swat him with a pillow. “Behave!”
But I can’t help smirking. “Like you haven’t seen it before,” I mutter.

“I know,” Blake says in a low
voice, “That’s what I’m picturing.”

I laugh. “Somehow I don’t think I
look quite the same in a bathing suit as I did when I was fifteen.”

Blake’s eyes slide over me in a way
that makes my skin warm and my heart race. “No,” he says gruffly, “I bet you
look even better.”

“O-kay,” I say loudly, standing and
stretching. “This is getting a little too uncomfortable.”

Blake doesn’t apologize or make any
movement to get up. Then suddenly he springs out of his chair and yanks his
shirt off.

“What the hell are you doing?” I
ask, my voice panicked.

He grins at me. “Going for a swim.”

“What?” I screech, “You don’t even
have a bathing suit.”

“Who cares? I’m wearing boxers.”
And with that he peels off his jeans and t-shirt.

“Oh my god,” I moan, looking away, this
is so very wrong and I am so thoroughly enjoying it.